To Let the Ashes Ignite
by samiam004
Summary: She crossed universes to save him, now it's his turn.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE: THE SPARK

You're forced to walk along a darkened corridor. The lights slowly flicker on, one by one, with each measured step that your father takes. _Your father._ Not the one you left at home, the crazy mad scientist who craves chocolate pudding cups in the middle of the night, but your biological father, the one with the pressed suits and the steely-eyed gaze.

Now you know where you got your poker face; your cool demeanor that had gotten you out of a scrape or two during your tumultuous times. The thought of you resembling him in any way just makes you sick.

You fall back a step as you take in what you just realized. Then you're roughly pushed forward by the press of cold metal at the base of your spine. Cold, you think as you pass by what you know are cells for "subjects." Cold is all that these people know.

You catch her reflection, your captor, as you walk past one of the many sealed windows along your path. Her now-blonde hair is tucked neatly inside her collar. You hate that. As she shoves you once again, you decide that you hate her too. But here's the kicker: you've fallen in love with her as well.

She may not be the hard-ass FBI agent who dragged you out of Iraq and turned your world – it's wasn't even really your world after all – upside down…or inside out…or some other version of asymmetry that only Walter could think of, but she's also _Olivia_. And you find yourself unable to resist any version of her. True, she was less haunted and more mischievous, but it was that same coy smile, throaty voice, and twinkle in her eyes that made you believe that this new side of her was simply caused by this new evolution of your relationship. Idiot.

She pushes the barrel deeper against your back at _your father's _demand and you sadly laugh to yourself. Even from this world, Olivia's a stickler for the code.

You stop at a window towards the end of the hall. You brace yourself cause you know what's behind the wall and you wish like hell that it wasn't true. A machine scans _Walternate_'s identity and after a few beeps, the door opens.

Suddenly she's there, right in front of you. Your Olivia huddled in a corner. Your strong, brave FBI agent reduced to little Olive.

You're thrown into the room as the other _Olivia _throws over her shoulder, "Ten minutes, Bishop. That's the deal."

The door seals you in but all you care about right now is her. Seeing her here, alive and…almost well, you berate yourself a thousand times over about how stupid you had been, not noticing that she wasn't the Olivia you came home with.

You silently end a mental battle that shouldn't have been in your head in the first place. You'd take your card-counting, Cortexiphan-induced, universe-hopping-to-save-your-life Olivia over the _other one_ any day. The problem is, you've seen this picture before.

Sitting at the corner of the room, with her arms wrapped around her legs, she doesn't even acknowledge your presence. You shift in place and as she slowly raises her eyes to meet yours, you feel the stirrings of a fire you know you'd never be able to tame.

"You're not real," she whispers, "you can't be real."

Your heart breaks for her.

Your heart breaks for you.

You catch a glimpse of wayward tears and you wonder if that's all she's been doing since you mistakenly abandoned her in this other universe. She bows her head back down. Her hair forms a rusted golden curtain that shields her away from you.

Your heart breaks a little more.

"Olivia," you try, but it just sounds wrong. You're not surprised to find your voice choked back by your own tears. You can't even call her by her name cause that's what you also used to call _her._

So you move closer and lift her chin to meet her eyes.

"Sweetheart, I've missed you."

And the room burst into flames.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO: CONTACT

You wake up in cold sweat and you swear that just a few moments ago, you felt flames licking at your skin.

Your senses are on high alert, but you don't mind the darkness or the silence or the breeze blowing softly through the open window.

Deep, even breaths.

The air tastes like ice and you wonder how that's even possible because ice doesn't really taste much like anything at all. Besides, it doesn't help slow the drumming in your chest; the harried beating of your heart.

Is this a panic attack? You're not really sure, but you do know that you have to calm down and soon.

"…144, 233, 377, 610, 987," you hear from the next room.

The Fibonnaci sequence. Counting. Numbers. Olivia. Oh god, Olivia.

It was a dream, just a dream. It wasn't in any way real. But deep down you know that next to blurring the lines between realities, anything is just about possible.

You lie back down and try not to drown in possibilities.

"…46368, 75025, 121393, 196418, 317811," Walter drones on.

You move your hand over your eyes to block out the early morning sunlight. Funny, you didn't even notice that the sun had risen.

Now you have to make a choice: get up and prove that your dream was just a dream, or stay in bed and continue to bask in the contented bliss you've found since you returned from the other universe with the woman you belonged with.

Decisions, decisions.

In the end it was Walter who decided for you. There was just something too pressing at the lab to be ignored any longer.

You finally leave the bed and your nightmare becomes all too real. You inspect yourself at the mirror to make sure.

Yes, those are definitely scorch marks on the pristine wifebeater you put on the night before.

…..

It's the sound that makes it predictable.

Beep. Beep. Click.

Then the door slides open as they approach you, needle in hand. The last images you see are glimpses of the long hallway before you wake up in your cell just like nothing happened.

Maybe nothing does happen and you just make it all up in your mind. The inactivity is making you still-crazy.

Then again, during the first few times you tried to put up a fight. It was all for naught. Damn them and their advanced technology. You don't even know what they do to you during those times because they leave no evidence on your body; not a single scar or even a scratch. You've checked. Every single time you regained consciousness.

That uncertainty irks you more than anything.

The only indication of the passage of time is the slow change in gradient of your hair color. In your tiny cell you see your reflection off a polished metal plate. They wouldn't use real mirrors, those were too dangerous.

The only people you see are _Walter_ and his masked henchmen. You wonder idly if you're alone or if Walter, and Peter, and William Bell share the same fate.

You knew that something like this would happen. In your crusade to save Peter, you knew that there were risks. You just never expected this. You can't even describe what this is because this is essentially nothing.

Now all you do is think. Never about yourself – because you don't even want to begin to understand what you're going through – but of everyone else you left behind. Rachel, Ella. Walter, Astrid. Peter. Always Peter. And at one point, your emotions were enough to create a spark of fire; but it was gone as soon as it appeared.

Did that happen too? Or was it another figment of your overworked imagination?

Walter did say that the Cortexiphan in your system would alter your perception. You were made to be a soldier. Your fear made your mind a formidable weapon.

And as of now, you're sure as hell that you've never been more scared in your entire life.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE: ODD MAN OUT

You palm your holster; gun at the ready. In this foreign territory, you can never be too careful. After all, the last person who got the drop on you was someone of this world.

Well, you have to give her credit, she was essentially _you. _

Rather, a version of you. At first you thought it was kind of cool; but that was before _she_ knocked you out and tied you to your favorite chair. _She_ even had the gall to strip you of your clothes.

_Her_ work here was similar to yours, but you have to admit, compared to your gadgets and assignments, FBI work was so mundane. Paperwork done on actual paper? Please, this reality has got everything backwards.

You hear a noise somewhere in the next alley to your right. The criminals here have no imagination either.

You see a hand peeking out from a pile of garbage. You are in no mood to dumpster dive today, or any other day for that matter. _Her_ clothes are too uncomfortable for that kind of activity.

…..

_Her _closet is filled with button-downs and sensible pant-suits. You haven't even seen a single colored article of clothing. They were all boring blacks and grays, all the way down to _her_ underwear. You cringe at that. The first thing you did after you were brought to _her_ apartment was to shop for some colored lingerie. At least you could wear that underneath the obligatory drab outfits. You'd hate to get caught simply because you chose to wear a red shirt to work one day.

It's the same story with the rest of _her_ place, nothing out of the ordinary. _She _didn't even have real food in the house; just some cereal, stale milk, and a bottle of whisky. Yuck.

The only things you found interesting were the collection of forensic books on the bedside table and the impressive archive of case files _she_ had stacked in boxes against the wall.

And, of course, the diamond engagement ring. You question fleetingly if it was given to _her_ by Peter.

You wonder what Peter ever saw in _her_. Does he see the same thing in you?

You marvel when that line of thinking even started to matter.

You initially thought that the giant tear which began this entire mission was all because of an inter-dimensional lovers' quarrel. You certainly got that impression when Peter laid eyes on you for the first time and tried so hard to conceal the thick emotion in his voice when he told you that you reminded him of someone he knew. It was made even more evident when _she_ showed up at your place and practically begged you at gunpoint to take _her_ to him.

It was good to know that their little lovers' spat only played into the latter part of the equation. You felt better knowing that there was an entirely bigger picture that you were all a part of before you literally _jumped_ into the unknown.

Still, you can't help the jealousy that bubbles in your chest when you think about their circumstance. You try to tell yourself that it's just because you doubt that Frank would ever do the same for you. It's not because you think Peter Bishop is charming and you sometimes wish that you really were his _Olivia._ Liar.

…..

You approach the body. You're surprised to see that this was the man you were chasing after just a few moments ago. Curiously, he was very much alive before the 5 seconds it took for you to get here. You decide to call for the coroner, but you stop mid-sentence when you chance upon the item he's grasping in his other hand. You haven't seen that kind of device the two months you've been here.

You pocket the gadget just before the officers on scene make their way towards you.

…..

You arrive at the lab and find it surprisingly empty. You lock yourself in _her_ office and take out the device. A few taps on the screen and you find the information you're looking for. The "man" was a – what do they call them in this reality? – shape shifter. And his target? One Olivia Dunham.

What the hell? That can't be right.

You're startled by a knock at your door. The knob shakes and you hear the lock turn loose. It could only be one person.

"Hey, why was the door locked? Got something you're keeping from me?" He asks with a cheeky grin.

"Usually a locked door means the person outside is not supposed to enter," you counter.

"Oh? Well, then," he steps outside and closes the door.

A beat later, the door opens, and he's back inside. "Hey, Olivia, your door was unlocked, do you have a minute?" The grin's back in place.

You can't help the corners of your mouth from curling up.

He walks over to the rarely used stereo and turns the dial up. He hums the first strings of a song you've never heard before and turns to you expectantly, "Remember this?" he laughs, "the day I realized that you're not as good a liar as you think you are." Then he laughs nervously, waiting for your reaction.

What does a song about piña coladas and getting caught in the rain have to do with lying? You begin to frown. Another inside joke you pretend to take in stride. The truth is, it sometimes makes you sad that you weren't the _Olivia _from this world that shared these memories with him.

"I have to go," you say, standing up.

"Was it something I said?" He asks a little too eagerly.

You wonder what that was all about. "I just…I have to go report to Broyles. What was it that you wanted?"

"It can wait," he says with a sigh, "it can wait."

You nod your goodbye and make for the car, but it's not the FBI building that's your destination. You decide that you have a date with a very special typewriter.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR: ECHO

You make your way to the back of the dingy little store, intent on finding out why you were the target of an assassin from your own world. In your concentration, you fail to notice the figure lurking behind the door through which you just entered.

"Agent Dunham, I trust you received my message?"

You whip out _her_ gun. Even after all this time, you could never claim any part of this world as yours. It helps keep the lines from blurring. It reminds you that nothing here is yours to own, especially not a certain man that choose this world over what was both yours. You are here for one reason and one reason alone: to accomplish your mission under the Secretary's personal orders.

He looked like any ordinary man you'd pick off the street, but you know better than to underestimate the individual inside the shell.

"What do you want from me?"

The malicious smile he wore appeared incredibly out of place on his host's face. "The Secretary tires of your incompetence."

"My incompetence?" you repeat.

"You lack of progress, Agent Dunham. We had very high expectations and you failed. Did you think you were the only one capable of bringing back his son? There are other agents more qualified for the task."

All you do is stare.

"So now I have to clean up this mess. You know how the Secretary hates loose ends." He raises his 76-Pulse side arm and aims.

The sound of a body could be heard as it thuds against the floor.

You were faster; and you've never been more thankful for the low-tech standard government-issued side arm you had to carry around.

You rush out of the darkness and step blinkingly into the sunlight.

This is bad. This is very bad.

That soldier would not be the last they'd send for you. Now you have bigger problems than trying to convince this world that you are the right _Olivia Dunham._

Hours later, you find yourself wearing a hole on the floor from your incessant pacing.

What to do, what to do?

The obvious answer was, of course, to bring Peter back and give him up to the slaughter. You've had enough conversations with him to know that – that was the reason the Secretary brought him back in the first place.

But what makes you sure that they wouldn't just kill you on the spot and take Peter anyway? If the matter was big enough to warrant an inter-dimensional assassin to come after you, then who knows what his father has planned for him.

You're torn between self-preservation and the need to clear your name.

You have been doing your job. You've already fed a fairly large amount of Intel that you gathered from a half-crazed scientist into the Selectric. Having endured talking to this _Walter_ alone should be enough to merit you a promotion.

The time spent with Peter, which to you began as a chore, has now become an added bonus. You don't even mind the whiskey so much anymore. Deep down you know that this is why you've been stalling. There had been enough opportunities of shared confidence. Some days you think he's so blinded by your smile that he'd agree to anything that you'd say. The man, as well as the alcohol as it turns out, is an acquired taste. Now that you've had your fill, you can't help but crave some more.

But Peter Bishop is not enough reason to sacrifice your life.

If you stay here, the soldiers could find you and you could die.

If you go back there, the soldiers would be waiting for you and you _would_ die.

You are Olivia Dunham. You're not going down without a fight.

…..

You are Olivia Dunham. You're not going down without a fight.

The last time _Walter_ checked up on you, you simply held his gaze and smiled until he got tired of you and moved on. You thought it a small victory.

Perhaps he thought you had finally cracked.

They let you out of your cell now, without first having to knock you out with their wonder drugs. It's a pity that you only have one other destination.

You spend the walk from your cell to the other room ambling by the corridors, searching for an escape route. You are still an FBI agent after all.

You count your steps, and the twists and turns, and the guards and doors. It always amazes you, the amount of numerical information you can store simply by memory. Sometimes you count aloud and your guardians regard you with a little more caution. Let them watch. They already think you're crazy.

The therapist wouldn't even believe you when you told her the truth. But why would she? According to the DNA test, you're biologically identical to your doppelganger.

Even back home, you hated psych evaluations. The therapist never understood you and you didn't even bother to try. It's funny how some things remain the same even between two separate universes.

By the time the second week rolls around, you already know how much time you would need to take down all the guards at their posts on your way to the side exit. But something in your gut tells you that you should wait a little more. _A time for everything and everything in its time._

So you spend your solitude trying out some new mind games and exercises. When the lights go out, you have your mental pyrotechnics to keep you entertained.

…..

It's the second time you wake up with her name on your lips, and for the love of god, you don't know why. You dream of fire and light, and green eyes with the intensity of a thousand suns.

You already suspect that _Olivia_ may not be Olivia, but you're too afraid to know for certain.

You bunch the blankets in your fists in frustration.

"Olivia!" you scream into your pillow.

That name would be the death of you.

…..

In this universe, _Olivia_ remains clueless. _She _lies sleeping on a warm bed that isn't really _hers._

…_.._

In another universe, another Olivia is startled awake. She could've sworn that the chill creeping into the room also brought your voice, calling out to her.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE: THE REVELATION

You watch _her _as _she_ drives you through the busy streets of Boston. You're trying very hard to disprove your theory; but there are too many similarities and not enough differences. _She _even dyed _her_ hair blonde again.

You negotiate a brief stop-over as _she_ loads the truck with gas.

This is stupid. But it's also the only way.

You keep the package safely tucked away in your coat pocket. You check routinely for its presence through most of the morning. Timing is everything.

You arrive at the lab and _she_ immediately dashes to the office to pour over the latest case files; nothing out of the ordinary there.

You deliberately emptied the coffee maker. You're expecting _her _shortly.

You anxiously tinker with the latest project at your station while occasionally darting glances at the closed office door. You jump at every sound you hear.

So far, Walter hasn't noticed.

But Astrid looks at you with concern, "Peter, all that coffee isn't going to do you any good. You're starting to vibrate like Walter's toy football stadium."

"Trust me, Astrid. It's not the coffee that's making me nervous."

Sure enough, _Olivia _makes _her_ appearance, mug in hand.

"Need a refill?" you grab _her_ attention.

_She_ smiles in response.

"I'll be right there," you usher _her _back into the office. No one else needs to see this.

…..

"Hey," you greet sitting on the chair in front of the desk. 

"Hey," _she_ smiles.

You almost want to cry. Please be wrong.

"We've just run out of coffee. But I've got the next best thing." You take the package out of your pocket and place it on the table.

_She_ looks at you curiously.

You tear the package open. Taking a handful, "Sugar rush?" you proffer. "It's almost as effective as a caffeine high."

_She_ laughs. And it doesn't sound any different to your ears.

_She_ takes one from your palm. Green. "Sweet."

You take one for yourself. Green. "Yup."

_She_ takes another one. Green.

You take another one. Red.

It's _her_ turn now. Yellow.

You hold your breath.

_She_ pops the candy in her mouth, "this has always been my favorite color."

You whole world comes crashing down. All because of a pack of m&m's.

It tears at you that didn't take any notice sooner, but the little things were very little and it pains you to realize that you didn't know your Olivia all that well in the first place.

This _Olivia_ is fun, and playful, and exciting. _She _reminds you of a different side of you that was left behind the moment you stepped on the plane that took you from Iraq. You genuinely like _her_. But she's also another Olivia that lied and kept secrets from you.

Olivia Dunham. She's a curse. And she will be your downfall.

…..

You beam at the candy Peter just offered. The little yellow confection always reminded you of sunshine, flowers, and all happy things. You thought your delight would be contagious, but for some reason, the expression on his face is quite the contrary.

You don't know how to describe the look he's giving you right now. The closest word you could think of is thunderous. There's a storm behind those cloudy eyes; but underneath all the rage you could sense some waves of misery.

He knows.

You _know_ he knows.

Your cover was blown because of a pack of m&m's. This one is going down in history books.

"Peter?" You inquire cautiously.

He takes a breath.

"Where is _she_?" You hear the same tremor in his voice from your first meeting months ago.

You won't even try to salvage your cover. "I don't know."

"Don't lie to me," he shakes his head. "Stop lying to me," he corrects himself.

"I don't know. Your father…my only assignment was to take _her _place and bring you back."

"Well, congratulations, Agent Dunham. I'm going to make your job a whole lot easier. Contact my father," he spits. "Tell him I'm coming back. You should already know my condition."

How do you compete with that? In the instance of _her_ versus you, you know who he would choose. You try another tactic. Maybe you could appeal to his sense of morality? "You can't go back. This whole universe would be destroyed."

He barely bats an eyelash.

You know there's no arguing. You want to give him what he wants, you owe him at least that; but selfishly, you have yet to formulate a plan to save yourself. In their eyes, you're still a fugitive.

You try to stall. "You know why he wants you to come back. You know why he's keeping _her _captive. You're only going to die."

"_She_ could already be dead."

"You love _her_."

"I do. _She_ crossed universes for me."

"So did I."

"_She _went there to protect me."

"That's what I'm trying to do right now. Peter, please, you don't belong there – " he stops you with a finger to your lips.

"I've had that conversation before," he says miserably, "there's no way it will turn out the same way."

You're confused for a moment but you let it pass. "Peter, I can't go back; even if I wanted to."

He questions you with his eyes.

You show him your death warrant as proof. "I can't just let you die, okay? That's why I can't go back. I failed to deliver because I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Don't make this any harder. I'm trying to do you a favor."

"They would kill me. And then they would kill you!"

"They wouldn't touch you. Not if you bring me back as leverage."

"_She_ means that much to you."

…..

_She_'s almost accepted your suggestion. You hear _her_ tone of defeat, but do you detect a hint of jealousy as well?

The universes are conspiring against you. How do you choose between the two women you've learned to love?

"_You_ mean a lot to me too," you surprise both _her _and yourself.

…..

"But to you, _she_'s worth more than both our universes combined," you nod in understanding. "You were supposed to be my Peter," you half-whisper.

"But I'm not," he says gently.

You see sincerity in eyes, and a longing for something that isn't meant to be.

"It's not fair," you finally say. "I don't know how we can pull this off."

"Just contact _my father_. Leave the rest to me."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I apologize for the delay, school's been hectic. Enjoy! And on a side note, this chapter, as well as the entire story, was inspired by _Placebo's "Running up that Hill."_

CHAPTER SIX: NOT SO LITTLE HILL

The sky was different tonight. The air was thicker, denser. The rain felt heavier. The clouds were more somber.

You stare out the window as the therapist once again tries to coax you into a gut-spilling session. You tell her what shewants to hear. You're just glad you aren't shackled.

…..

You pass through the portal surrounded by a shade of trees. You barely make out the landscape in the darkness but you can hear the waves crashing at the foot of the hill.

Shadows start moving and everything's a blur until someone has you by the throat with a gun to your temple.

"Olivia!" you hear Peter exclaim. But your vision's getting hazy as the lack of oxygen travels to your brain.

…..

"Olivia!" you hear at the back of your mind. You jerk in your seat as if you've just been rudely awakened.

"Peter!" you blurt out in reflex.

The therapist notes the way your darting eyes seem to begin searching the otherwise empty room.

…..

"Stop," says a commanding voice.

Air comes whooshing into your lungs before complete darkness takes over your senses. You collapse to the ground.

"Welcome back, Agent Dunham."

You raise your head to meet the Secretary's face. You never noticed before, how chilly his grin really appeared to be.

"Hello, son," he turns to Peter, "I'm glad to see you've finally come to your senses and decided to come home."

You feel Peter seething next to you. "This is not my home. You know why I'm here. Take me to _her._"

"I'm afraid I don't know who you're referring to."

"Don't play dumb with me, I know you captured _Olivia_. I want to see _her_."

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You somewhat expected him to say "_my Olivia_." It troubles you that the fact that he didn't afforded you a tiny amount of relief.

You go unnoticed as the men continue to discuss.

"What makes you think that you are in any position to make commands?"

"I'll make it simple for you, Mr. Secretary_," _he spits the title in disgust, "that machine you asked me to look over the last time I was here? I'm the only one who can make it work. So you either take me to _her_ now or all you'll ever get to see of your precious machine are its blueprints and spare parts."

"That precious machine, son, as you so blatantly put it, can prevent further damages to this universe," the Secretary says with barely-restrained disdain.

"Tell me, does it bother you that _Walter_ was the one who pissed off Mother Nature and yet you're the one who has to pay the consequences?" He has the gall to infuriate his already livid father.

You feel the corners of your mouth turn up in a little smile.

…..

You really really hate this version of Walter. And to think, if you grew up in this world, you could've ended up just like him.

You throw that small quip at him and are delighted to see the shocked expression on his face before he schools his features again and proves to you how much of a bastard he really is.

"Oh, and what of you and your _precious_ Olivia? Have you come to her rescue only to send her back to a universe that's only fate is to die at your hands?"

You did not think this through. He knows it too.

"Very well, what kind of father would I be if I would refuse to grant my only son's dying wish?" he questions in mock pity.

You want to sock him. But you are held back by a pair of eyes so familiar to those you long to see, and the grip of two soldiers trying to haul you into the waiting chopper.

…..

You wonder where you stand, now that you've brought Peter back. (Only to lead him to the slaughter; another part of your mind thinks.)

You take it as a good sign that the Secretary saved you from death by suffocation.

Glancing to your left, you watch Peter as he looks out misted window. The slump of his shoulders tell you that the Secretary's last words had, indeed, gotten to him.

…..

You're glad that the passenger seats of the helicopter don't face each other. You wouldn't be held liable for your actions if you have to look at his face any longer. You think of the father you left back home. Bumbling-genius Walter was much better company than stoic-calculating _Walter_.

You feel a cold hand slipping into yours. _Olivia._ You're not entirely sure if you trust _her_. Did _she_ really come back to help you or did _she_ just come along for the ride so _she_ can find _her _way back home?

After being scorned by your own universe, you're both at a loss at where to turn to now. In a way, you're like two lost souls on the same path; but you're not soulmates, you just happen to be traveling together. You know that your true soulmate is the one you unknowingly left behind in this world. That is why you feel guilty for squeezing _her_ offered hand tighter, because you need all the comfort you can get, but this source screams betrayal on so many levels.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7: THE OTHERS

Just another night at the office. You're expecting a raise soon due to the mounds of extra overtime hours that you've put in ever since you got back. You look around at your team and can't help but noting that something's amiss; someone's amiss.

You look over her station and wonder for the hundredth time what kind of secret mission the secretary's got her doing. You shouldn't care this much. She's just a colleague. And Charlie never passes up an opportunity to remind you that she has Frank.

You kissed her once. You sensed that there was something between you. Until she realizes that, you'll take what you can get.

You're broken out of you reverie by the sound of frantic beeps and the hoarse warning of Charlie's voice. "There's been a breech in sector 4!"

"We're not even in charge of sector 4!" You exclaim.

This time, it's the voice of your commanding officer that answers you back, "The Secretary is down there. He is our responsibility."

"Yes sir," you holster your weapon.

…..

_She_ dismisses the guards and it's just the two of you approaching the reinforced door.

_She_ ducks at an angle, aims _her_ gun at what you think are security cameras, and fires. The blast is followed by an array of alarming lights and sounds.

"Take this," she hands you an almost paper-thin device, "From what I've heard from Walter, she can cross through dimensions. The red points are the most vulnerable weak spots. I thought that could help."

You nod you head in thanks. You hear the trudge of footsteps in the distance.

"Heads up!" _She_ throws a key card at you, "We gotta go."

You turn around in bewilderment. "You don't have to come with us."

_She_ gives you a sad little half-smile. "I know," _her_ gun follows the key card. "I'm never gonna live this down. I'm the best shot in this Division and somehow, the science geek ended up with my gun."

You don't have time to enjoy the levity. You enter the room and just as you'd envisioned, there she is huddled in the corner.

…..

Your heart breaks at the way he tenderly cradles _her_ face, his eyes begging _her_ to understand that this is real, that he's finally here.

You feel _her _eyes on you, and you can almost feel the revulsion coming off _her_ in waves. Who could blame _her_, really? _She _came to you for help and you went all street-fighter on _her._ You switched places with_ her_ and left _her_ to be caged and tortured. You…Peter would never be yours because he's always been _hers_.

Peter notices _her_ distraction and guides _her_ attention back to him. "Listen to me. She is not the enemy. She's here to help us."

You watch _her_ contemplate his words as you stand still. You don't know how to act around _her_.

"'_Livia_, we need to leave now. We haven't got much time." He rests his forehead on _hers_ and whispers, "Sweetheart, please."

That seems to do the trick. The next thing you know there's flames licking at the walls. You've seen this before and you're frozen in fear and awe. Fortunately, the flames don't shift towards you.

_She's_ made a way for _them_ to escape.

Your head hangs in defeat. You may be a hell of a shot but who can beat pyrokinesis?

Peter nudges your shoulder and you move out of the way. That's as much of a goodbye as you're ever going to get.

…..

You march quickly towards all the commotion before you realize where you're headed. Your soldiers are in formation, poised to attack.

"Who left the prisoners unattended?" You bark out.

One of your men step forward, "Mr. Secretary, we were stationed at the perimeter. Agent Dunham informed us that under your direct orders, it was her duty to stand guard."

You wince at their incompetence. "And where is Agent Dunham now?"

You hear an explosion but you have no time to react as you're pushed back by an invisible force.

…..

You see _Olivia_ drop as the door blasts open. _Her_ blonde hair cascades to the floor as the force knocks _her_ down. You're reassured by the steady rise and fall of _her _chest before you start moving out into the hall.

Beside you, Olivia's eyes are glazed over as she concentrates to keep this warped version of your very own yellow brick road going. You take her hand and tangle your fingers together. You need her to know that you're not going anywhere without her this time.

It's a series of flashes and explosions as fire paves your way to safety.

…..

Your team arrives just in time to see the display. So this is _Peter Bishop_. What the hell is _he_ doing dragging Olivia through the flames?

Rage starts bubbling in your chest. What's a few more months back in the hyperbaric chamber? He's not taking your best agent away from you.

You try to make a run for it. But Charlie holds you in place, "That's not her, look."

You turn your head towards the trail they left behind and there she is emerging from the smoke. Relief courses through your system, but you're not supposed to feel such flutterings in your stomach.

"You gonna give me that gun or do I have to take it from you?"

"Welcome home, Dunham." You can fight back the grin that takes over your face.

…..

A/N: Couldn't help but add Lincoln Lee. He's my favorite character from Over There :)


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